


Out for a ride

by Rosy_Posy66



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Smutty goodness, So much angst, Voyeurism, but redeemable stalking, it was supposed to be a light smut fic but i tortured the characters, kinda borderline bestiality but not really, lack of informed consent but they both want it, masturbation on a bike, masturbation on a horse, stalkerish, weird self shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 16:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18502483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosy_Posy66/pseuds/Rosy_Posy66
Summary: Early on in their relationship Alana still doesn't trust Margot. When she sneaks out at night to try and find out what Margot is hiding from her she finds something entirely else. ;)





	Out for a ride

**Author's Note:**

> I love these characters and had the idea for this fic for a long time when I finally put pen down to paper it just flowed out. As always there is zero editing by me or anyone else so be prepared for lots of spelling and grammatical errors. It may become apparent I don't know anything about horses, this is true. It's also been a hella long time since I watched the original works so I used my creative license and this deviates a lot from the cannon. If this isn't the kind of thing you like don't read. I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> \- The Orignal Rose

_Leather jodhpurs. Fuck me._ Alana didn’t know what she was doing here. She couldn’t possibly understand what had compelled her to come here. If not for that desperate drive pulling her forwards she’d be worried Mason had drugged her. Her feet were trembling and she clamped her lips together. The stables were icy and with every exhale she was certain Margot would see the disturbance her breath caused the air. She should turn back now, leave, maybe even risk attempting to sleep in this godforsaken murder mansion. But she couldn’t her body had a mind of its own routing her to the spot. Besides she reasoned with herself _I need to make sure that Margot isn’t working with her brother. If I want to get her help I need to be able to trust her and to do that I need to keep a close unnoticed eye._ That wasn’t the real reason of course but Alana was happy to play pretend if it allowed her to continue her spying game with a clear conscious. 

Margot saddled herself a horse no easy task after mason’s treatment of them but she was committed she’d come there night after night until she’d gained their trust. It was a guilty pleasure she partook in rarely. Every time she tormented herself with unbridled revolution at her actions for days afterwards. She hated herself for it but she didn’t stop. It wasn’t worth it. She craved it like the starved a sandwich and an addict their next hit. Even know her mind was torn between raw lust and the guilt and fear she felt at her deviance. Margot leapt into the saddle, positioning herself just so like always. 

_What the hell is she doing?_ It hadn’t struck Alana how weird it was to be sneaking around the stables at night until now. Making a split second decision she took the handles of the blacksmiths rickety old bicycle and raced after. She was careful sticking behind and to the left where a row of trees shadowed her, keeping her out of view let close enough to see what Margot was doing. This whole adventure seemed less creepy now, following someone around at night was borderline justifiable if they were acting this suspicious. The perfect curve of Margot’s back led down to her pert arse as it fell up and down on to the horses back. _Damn. I wish it was me she was riding._ She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. God, when had her internal monologue started doing her this dirty? 

Far enough away from the main house now to avoid any unwanted attention Margot allowed herself to relax. It had been a long time since she had last allowed herself this pleasure, worrying about the increase in its frequency and developing some sort of perverse addiction. However, the new house guest was driving her crazy and she figured what was life for if she couldn’t enjoy herself from time to time. She allowed her subconscious to take the lead, drawing herself into some kind of semi-lucid dream state. _Warm water cascaded over my breasts, her hands rubbing soapy bubbles over my skin. I reached out for her. Desperate. Needy. Fully open before her. Her eyes quirked up in a closed mouth smile and I knew I had lost. Her fingers reached around me. I lost sight of where she ended and I began. My body drenched in sweat heart beating in time with the tapping of her fingers. She pinched my skin the pain sweet with some kind of musky beauty that was so utterly her._

Alana edged herself closer. She was expecting Margot to stop. For her to have to sculk round in the bushes listening in on a covert meeting but whatever it was, it was clear it was happening now. Her thighs burned at the racing speed and every squeak of the bike's frame made her cringe. Margot was panting, her eyes were closed and she was lying toward against the hilt of the horse's saddle. _What the fuck. Is she even awake? What the hell kind of dream is she having._ That's when it dawned on her. _Of fucking course. She's not having a sex dream she's having sex._ With herself but still. For the millionth time that night, Alana felt her skin crawl. Why was she doing this? _Just turn back. Stop! You know she's not up to anything. Let it go._ But she couldn't. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before. Sex for Alana had always felt like a chore, one of those things you have to do for people to love you. Never in her life had she seen someone so lost in themselves. She clenched her thighs together. _Fuck._

 _The pressure was building. Waves crashing against a shore. Sweat dripping down my body like a waterfall. Ocean sea pounding. Skin slapping on skin._ Margot's lace panties were soaked through, pooling into the padding of her jodhpurs, creating the slip and slide effect she loved so much about the horse saddle. It always took a long time for Margot to reach her peak. That was her curse. She was liberated enough to crave orgasm all of the time but it was virtually impossible for her to get there. Margot spent agonising years as a teen alone in her room lying in thousands of different positions but nothing worked. She googled articles spend her Christmas money in the red light district and all to no avail. Then she took up riding. It was like finding a limb she'd never known she'd needed before. Finally, everything fell into place. So she rode and she rode. Everyone around her believed she grow up to be some award-winning jockey with all of the passion she held but they never truly knew what she was so passionate about. 

Alana didn't know what possessed her to stay. She didn't know what drew her to lean forward so she could reach her hand up under her skirt but she did know she was too far gone to care. For a lifetime she had forced shame upon herself, shame about her body, shame about her sexuality and especially shame around her arousal. That's what being sexually active at a young age did to you. It made you feel bad about liking sex, told you the lie that sex should be the way you first experienced it, scary and painful, that to see it any other way made you feel like a whore. So this was a first for her to be moving without thinking. She was living in the real world. Floating along without distraction. All of her energy was focused on Margot as she rocked back and forward release all the stress from her muscles. She didn't dare look down or stop moving. The moment was so easily breakable and it felt like changing any little thing would destroy it.

Higher and higher Margot floated, Alana close behind her. Any sense of self she'd once possessed was gone. She wasn't registering any thought just feeling. The rocking motion of the saddle stitching against her pulling equal amounts of pain and pleasure. The banging force against her labia so pleasurable she was beginning to shake. 

It was still dark and Alana didn't know much about arousal but she could make out Margot’s silhouette and kept in time with that rocking motion. Her control was being destroyed by the second. With all these new sensations she was on the edge. 

They crashed over together both reaching out for mentally for the other. The aftermath was quiet. Shame barriers, the women had spent years designing, were put up again and they both buried the memory deep inside of themselves. The night was cold with secrets. That was beautiful. They both thought mournfully, hoping against hope that somehow what they had done was forgivable and that one day they might find someone who understood them enough that their pleasure didn't have to be a secret.


End file.
